Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Time Portals, Cats, etc.

href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2009/08/05/funny-pictures-narnia-portals/">funny pictures of cats with captions
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Pity, isn't it, that cats weren't generally kept as pets in the middle ages. Dogs, yes, although those were mostly working animals. In my reading right now I'm concentrating on medieval ways that were NOT of the upper class, and learning a great deal. See, the heroine in THE PEDDLER'S PACK is not going to be a fair lady with a delicate silken veil and well-kept hands. I'm not sure yet what she will be, but she'll be a yeoman's daughter, or a middle-class farmer's, or a merchant's. Someone who's used to hard work, and very practical. So I doubt she'd have a cat.

I miss Cat Kelly Kinnard very much. In June Cat Kelly went to that big Tuna Feast in the Sky. I do miss her. Maybe my heroine will be iconoclastic and a bit defiant, and keep a kitteh just because she likes it.

Hmm...

Friday, August 01, 2008

Toiling Onward

A Faithful Reader (hi to all three of you!) reminded me I hadn't posted in ages. I'll rectify that.

First & foremost, thanks to all of your good thoughts & prayers. I am no longer stuck. Instead, I'm working on agent-suggested revisions for the piece, DAMAGES, we want to send to Steeple Hill. I'm also working on editor-suggested revisions to SEASONS IN THE MIST, the time-travel story. I'd tell you who the house is who's interested, but my agent says then I'd have to shoot you.

Work on PEACEWEAVER is also perking along. My crit partner actually likes it! More reason to celebrate.

Next month I'm off to American Christian Fiction Writers' annual conference, along with several of you. I'm very cranked for this event, and as usual, I have to warn myself not to set my expectations too high. That way lies a major bum-out.

In other news, my web site is being nicely redesigned. I had to get a new domain name 'cause the old host played dirty with my old one. So if you get a chance, take a peek at www.debkinnard.com, currently under construction but shaping up to be very cool indeed.

That's it for now. Gotta go write something. Cat Kelly Kinnard says "mip".

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Why Cats Say "Blurt" and Other Mysteries

Cats do say "blurt" not "meow". Robert A. Heinlein says so, and that's good enough for me.

Now--why do I mention this on a writing blog? Because there has been some talk about "old-fashioned" writing on some of the writers' loops. Old-fashioned in this case can mean practically anything--writers who are in their 60s trying to give their 20-something characters authentic voices; Jane Austen's style as opposed to modern; and historical writers attempting to get their characters talking right for their age and still be understandable to a modern audience.

Always, when writing in another era, there will be something lost in translation. My just-finished WIP is a case in point. In the 14th century, the upper classes spoke either middle-English or Norman French. I can't write in either language--it wouldn't communicate. Even if my skills were up to it, it wouldn't work. Writing is, after all, primarily about communicating.

That said, my characters can't sound 21st century. Not having been there in 1353 to hear how folks spoke, the best I can do is an approximation of a 21st century author's guess at medieval usage and speech patterns.

(I refused throughout the book to use 'tis. Just my prejudices coming through. I'd rather throw in an obscure French term, or even Cornish, than use that tired old contraction. To me, it shouts "Hey, this is a piece of historical fiction and I'm too lazy to guess how they REALLY talked, so here's 'tis' to tell you so!")

Now, some folks are not going to like the guesses and choices I've made. That's fine. If they get the gist of the story, I figure I've done 99% of my job. If my cat says "blurt" instead of "meow," I hope you will enjoy my story anyway, and forgive the fact that my choices aren't quite what you would've chosen.